that causes it, or late dinners, or because one is so pampered. There
are no cares in Russia; in that regard Russia is better than America.
In the matter of money the two are equal." After this explanation on
the part of Miss Trippelli, Effi desisted from further warnings that
it was time to go. When twelve o'clock came, the guests, who had
meanwhile developed a certain degree of intimacy, bade their host a
merry and hearty good night.

* * * * *

Three days later Gieshuebler's friend brought herself once more to
Effi's attention by a telegram in French, from St. Petersburg: "Madame
the Baroness von Innstetten, nee von Briest. Arrived safe. Prince K.
at station. More taken with me than ever. Thousand thanks for your
good reception. Kindest regards to Monsieur the Baron. Marietta
Trippelli."

Innstetten was delighted and gave more enthusiastic expression to his
delight than Effi was able to understand.

"I don't understand you, Geert."

"Because you don't understand Miss Trippelli. It's her true self in
the telegram, perfect to a dot."

"So you take it all as a bit of comedy."

"As what else could I take it, pray? All calculated for friends there
and here, for Kotschukoff and Gieshuebler. Gieshuebler will probably
found something for Miss Trippelli, or maybe just leave her a legacy."

Gieshuebler's party had occurred in the middle of December.
Immediately thereafter began the preparations for Christmas. Effi, who
might otherwise have found it hard to live through these days,
considered it a blessing to have a household with demands that had to
be satisfied. It was a time for pondering, deciding, and buying, and
this left no leisure for gloomy thoughts. The day before Christmas
gifts arrived from her parents, and in the parcels were packed a
variety of trifles from the precentor's family: beautiful queenings
from a tree grafted by Effi and Jahnke several years ago, beside brown
pulse-warmers and knee-warmers from Bertha and Hertha. Hulda only
wrote a few lines, because, as she pretended, she had still to knit a
traveling shawl for X. "That is simply not true," said Effi, "I'll
wager, there is no X in existence. What a pity she cannot cease
surrounding herself with admirers who do not exist!"

When the evening came Innstetten himself arranged the presents for his
young wife. The tree was lit, and a small angel hung at the top. On
the tree was discovered a cradle with pretty transp